Forbidden
by sebkurtofskyftw
Summary: Little did Dave know, this man was going to shake up his world. AU fic inspired by "Mad Men". The action takes place in the early 60-ties. Dave works in advertising. Kurt represents one of his company's clients.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings**: couple racist, sexist and homophobic comments, swearing, lack of beta

**AN:** So this fic is strongly inspired by "Mad Men". Like, really strongly. Anyone who watches the show, will for sure recognize what I borrowed for this story.

I don't know when I'll continue it, mostly due to a lack of time, but here it is part 1 for now. The rating may jump up because this story just begs for a no-Kurt-we-shouldn't-do-this angst/smut.

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><p>The local was alright. Quite elegant and cozy. Dave sit back in his lodge and looked around. The air was heavy from cigarette smoke, large gray clouds were hanging over every group gathered in the room. People were chatting animatedly but his seat was situated more to the side, so the laughter wouldn't disturb any conversation. The perfect place for this kind of meeting. Way too expensive for Dave's taste, but it's not like money played any role in this situation. The company was always paying for those dinners and Dave suspected that overall, it didn't matter how much he was spending on making their clients felt welcome and well taken care off. At least considering that the generous gifts Schuester was throwing at his secretary were probably paid with a money from the same safe, as well the ones for that mysterious chick he was banging in the city. And… who knows, maybe sometimes he even bought something for his wife.<p>

Dave pulled out a worn-out looking notebook and a tiny pen from the inner pocket of his jacket suit. He flipped through couple of pages. "Ryerson's lipsticks" was the title of the note he stopped at. Just another campaign the company was working on. Dave was determined to make his opinions heard this time, so his project had to be good. He tapped the pencil couple times on the surface, absorbed in his own thoughts. Then started scratching a draft of a poster.

"Can I get you anything else, sir?"

Dave looked up, surprised, to see a waiter standing right next to him, a professional smile plastered on his face. He was black and wrinkled. Dave looked down at his table. His glass was indeed empty, and he didn't even remember when he drunk it. Dave frowned and looked back at the man.

"Why do women like wearing lipstick?" he asked and put the notebook on the table.

The guy looked startled. He gazed around anxiously, uncertain of what is expected from him. Dave winced mentally and reminded himself that those people need more time and patience. He eased the frown out of his face and let his lips curl up in what he hoped was a comforting smile.

"Do you have a wife?" He started again.

The man before him relaxed at the familiar context and smiled widely. "Yes, sir. It's going to be twenty three years in October since we got married with my Janet, sir."

Dave nodded politely. "That's swell. She does wear lipstick, right?" Dave pointed his pencil at the man. "What makes her decide to buy a certain mark?"

The alarmed look appeared on guy's face again. Dave sighed. "Your help would be very appreciated." He said calmly, although annoyance started creeping into his mood.

"I'm afraid I can't help, sir. I've never asked her about that kind of things. She just wears a red one. I guess ladies just like looking nice for their men, sir."

Dave narrowed his eyes and slowly leaned back in his seat. "You know, that's actually well…" He gasped suddenly, a childish excitement lighted up his whole face and ideas for slogans and TV ads started running through his mind. "That is actually very well said!" He looked up at the man and ignored the dubious expression on his face. "Cher Baiser Lipstick. My husband approves." He waved his hand in the air, imagining the slogan on a poster, and grinned widely. "Thank you." He said and went back to scratching in his small notebook. He threw "Oh, and one more Scotch, please." in the waiter's way and returned to explaining on paper why emphasizing basic needs of the prettier sex, like being admired by men, is the key to a successful lipstick campaign.

After a moment, his enthusiasm boiled down and Dave just stared at the pages covered in careful hand-writing. He checked the time. The guy he was supposed to meet was almost forty minutes late. Of course. Dave huffed in annoyance. Fucking people from "Lima Steel Corporation", thinking the world should just adjust to them. And fucking Schuester, making him waste time on this, when he could just finish his presentation for tomorrow. Although the question is, he thought grimly, what's the sense of showering his bosses with new projects for campaigns if no one was really listening to him. Dave deserved better. He had ideas, big plans for the company. But creativity doesn't count when you're just a young account executive. Dave was 26, so everytime he made an allusion to a promotion, he was met with a condescending stare. Okay, nevermind. He was better than those old pricks anyway. He knew it.

"David Karofsky, I assume?" A small hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. Dave turned his head. The high voice didn't match with a figure of a young, big-eyed man staring down at him, but it wasn't the time to wonder about that. He pushed the notebook hurriedly into his pocket, stood up and reached his hand out.

"That's correct. I'm pleased to finally meet you, Mr Hummel" he said smoothly shaking the other man's hand and secretly hoped the guy won't take the barely noticeable accent he put at "finally" as a jab at his lateness. Although that's exactly what it was.

"The pleasure is mine." The high voice filled the air again. The man smiled brightly and sat at the opposite side of the table.

* * *

><p>They moved on to ordering their food. Hummel stared at the menu for a long while, frowning disapprovingly and constantly asking the waiter for details about certain dishes. Dave had enough time to study surreptitiously the other man. He had a pale face with quite unusual, but fascinating features. The first thing that caught Dave attention, man's eyes, big and unbelievably blue, were adding to the innocent image. The guy looked fragile and delicate, which apparently contrasted vividly with his personality. For the short time they spent already in each other presence, Dave noticed that Hummel was demanding and acted awfully superior, as if he believed the restaurant should be thankful just for having him there. Dave figured such confidence is natural when your father is an owner of the third-largest steel producer in the United States.<p>

The waiter took their orders -_finally_- and brought the wine Hummel ordered. Dave knew now was the time to absorb themselves in a boring small-talk. He opened his mouth but whatever conversation topic he had prepared, it was cut off by the other man.

"So, tell me, Mr Karofsky, are you married?" Hummel asked bluntly.

The question caught Dave off guard. He smiled tightly and said: "Unfortunately, I haven't found the right person yet."

"Perfect" Hummel muttered into his glass.

Dave raised an eyebrow at that, not sure if he heard correctly. "Excuse me?"

But the other man just smiled mischievously and busied himself with watching the red wine twirling in his glass.

"What about you?" Dave asked and, out of fear that it sounded harsh, added hurriedly "sir."

Hummel put the glass on the table. He looked at Dave for a moment and answered "Actually, I don't plan to settle down. I find the life style of decent people completely unappealing."

Dave chuckled at that. But one look at man's face had said him that he's serious. Dave gaped at him for a while, then cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink. Yet another bizarre thing about the guy. Speaking of bizarre...

Dave leaned back in his seat and smiled, voicing out his thoughts.

"I wouldn't suspect you of representing a steel company. I always thought you are all tough, big guys." Dave tensed the moment that sentenced came out of his mouth. It sounded way better in his head. Take it as a joke, man. Take it as a joke, he thought nervously.

Hummel laughed and Dave relaxed visibly, knowing they're on the same wavelength.

"Oh, I am tough, believe me." He said, obviously amused, and leaned towards Dave. "It's just a disguise. The company likes to use my feeble, obscure self to delude people like you into thinking we're not going to negotiate a better price for that advertisement campaign."

Dave let his eyes slide again over the man's silhouette. Perfectly combed hair, sleek suit, perfumes so strong he could smell them from his own seat. If anyone asked Dave Karofsky, "obscure" would be probably the last word on his list of adjectives that could describe Kurt Hummel. But he ignored that remark.

"That's indeed a cunning move." He leaned forward too. "But since you exposed your company's strategy now…"

Hummel smiled wickedly and licked his lips. "I guess I have to make sure now, that you won't reveal it in your office tomorrow."

Dave bit his lip to keep the straight expression on his face. Maybe after all the guy won't be a pain in the ass to work for, as everyone in the office originally predicted. He seemed pretty cool for now.

"Unfortunately, I'm very loyal to my company. That would require a lot of convincing." Dave answered, playful smile ghosting his lips.

Something changed in Hummel at that. There was a new emotion in his eyes and the intensity of his stare made Dave's breath catch in his throat and a heat spread over his face.

The man responded, his voice low and quiet. "I'm a very convincing man, David."

Dave broke the eye contact, suddenly nervous and not even knowing why. He looked down. Their hands were inches apart on the table. Kurt slowly slid his hand towards Dave's. Dave observed the motion, knowing what was going to happen and dreading it, but at the same time, he was too caught up to say any word of protest. Kurt's fingers brushed along Dave's and started circling over his knuckles. His fingers were cold against Dave's skin, but Dave felt the heat inside him growing at that chilly touch.

Someone on the right side pushed a chair away loudly and it broke the spell. Dave nearly jumped in his seat and looked around abruptly, terrified that anyone could noticed what happened. Kurt looked at him smiling smugly, and took a sip of his wine.

Dave stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Then excused himself to go to the bathroom.

* * *

><p>The water dripped from Dave's cheeks and chin. One stubborn drop was hanging on the end of his nose and refused to fall off. Dave's impression was staring back at him blankly from the mirror as he wondered if he could just sneak out of the restaurant without going back to his table. Of fucking course not. With Dave's luck, not only did he collide with one of those disgusting freaks, he was actually forced to interact with him and kiss his ass, at least until he signed the contract. Peachy.<p>

Dave straightened up with a sigh, wiped his face on a towel and headed off the bathroom. He stopped in his tracks couple feet from the table. Hummel was sitting in his seat, just like Dave left him. The food was already delivered, which meant Dave must have been in the bathroom for quite some time. But Hummel apparently waited for him before starting eating. How fucking polite of him.

Dave took a deep breath, reminding himself that he wants to be promoted, not fired, and closed the distance between himself and the table. He casted a quick look at the other man before settling on his spot. Hummel looked composed, bored even, as if nothing happened couple minutes ago.

"Oh, finally" Hummel murmured, not looking up from the glass of wine in his hand. "The food is getting cold." He put the glass away and picked up his fork and knife.

Dave observed the careless motions of his hands as Hummel cut off a small fragment from the cutlet. He held up the piece of meat in front of his mouth and closed his lips around the fork. The utensil slowly withdrew from his mouth. He looked up at Dave.

Their eyes locked and Dave shifted nervously in his seat. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his right hand, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Mr. Hummel. With all the respect, the... thing you did earlier. It was inappropriate and I wish for it to not happen again."

Hummel stared at him completely puzzled, the hand holding a fork with another morsel stayed frozen in midair.

"What thing do you mean, specifically?" The bright eyes were wide and innocent. His expression didn't leave any doubt that he's confused by Dave's request.

And it was Dave's turn to look puzzled. He passed his eyes over the surroundings. People in the restaurant were absorbed in their own cliques. No one paid any attention to them. The life around, loquacious and drunk, went on. Apparently no one noticed anything strange, except for Dave. Traitorous thought made its way into his mind. What if he's going crazy. What if he imagined it all somehow. But the soft brush of other man's fingers still made his flesh creep and there's no way he could dream up _that_. He leaned in slightly and whispered. "You know."

Hummel cocked his head to the side. Then he slowly put the utensils away on his plate. "I'm afraid not." He said coldly. "Maybe you could describe it what do you mean, so we could be on the same page?"

Dave cleared his throat and put hands on his lap, nervously twisting the material of his suit in fingers. He was pretty sure that if his cheeks weren't already red, they'll be in no time.

"You... your hand..." he stammered and dared to look Hummel in the face. The corner of man's lips twitched in long restrained laughter and Dave finally understood. He gritted his teeth to stop himself from saying any expletives and stood up abruptly from the table.

"I hope you'll enjoy our presentation on the official meeting, sir. Because this one is over."

Hummel smiled at him again, lazily licked his lips and said. "I hope so too. I don't like being left unsatisfied."

Dave's hands clenched into fists. He turned around and left the local.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN**: I'm sorry for abandoning this fic. I had a writer's block for a long while, but I think I'm back now :). I feel rusty though so this part is short and more of a set up for the next one, when Kurt and Dave will meet again. But I wanted to post it to let you know I'm still working on this fic.

Also, I decided that it will stay T-rated.

I apologize for any mistakes.

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><p>"Stop the elevator!" Dave shouted out and run up to the closing doors. They slid back apart to reveal Will Schuester, standing in the front of two other people Dave didn't know. He jumped into the contraption, said his good mornings, and smiled at his boss. The boss responded with a polite nod and focused his attention on buttons blinking their white announcements about passing floors.<p>

"I worked on the project about Ryerson's Lipstick. I have a slogan and a draft of the poster. I'd really appreciate if you had a moment to look at it." Dave said excitedly.

Schuester sighed at his side. "Karofsky?"

"Yes, sir?" Dave turned to him, excited about getting approval.

"We lost them."

Dave gaped at him. The elevator stopped at the 22th and its doors slid open giving Schuester the opportunity to walk out of the uncomfortable silence.

An annoyed "Excuse me, sir?" came from behind Dave, and he realized he was blocking the entrance in his numb bewilderment. He jolted out of the elevator and came up quickly to his boss.

"What? When? And what do you mean, _lost_? We had them! They were going to sign it!" He rushed to say in one breath, looking at the other man.

"Well we can't win every one of them." Schuester rolled his eyes. He stopped between rows of cubicles in the open room, eyeing the younger man with the calmness reserved for those who don't need to prove their skills anymore. "It happens, Karofsky. Move on to something else." He said and turned back to walk toward his office.

"Hello, Emma." Schuester smiled at his secretary, taking off his hat and the coat.

"Good morning, Mr. Schuester." She stood up with a little wiggle of her narrow hips and rushed to take the clothing from him. "Would you care for a cup of coffee?" Dave wondered if she always sounded so breathless or if it was the intimidating proximity of her boss and an occasional lover.

"Yes, I'd love to." He answered, eyes lingering on her silhouette.

The secretary turned to hang the coat and the hat on a nearby hall-stand and raised her eyebrow at Dave, silently asking what is he still doing there.

He thinned his lips. Of course it was easy to say for _Schuester, _to just man up and get over the fail. William had already reputation of a man with a great talent and a deep understanding of consumers' minds.

He walked into his office before the doors closed yet, ignoring the hiss of his secretary.

"I put a lot of effort into that ad."

Schuester laid his case on the desk and walked around it to sit in his chair. He popped open the button on his suit and leaned back on the chair, staring at Dave blankly. "I sure hope you did. So?"

"I think I at least deserve to know what happened with my project."

Schuester scoffed. "_Your_ project?"

Dave suppressed a grimace. "You know how much I appreciate the opportunity you gave me. I spent so much time on this and to think I won't even get to present my ideas to anyone...?" Again. "It's aggravating."

"Are you done?" Schuester interrupted him, bored with the pointless in his mind discussion. He sighed exaggeratedly and spread his arms. "What do you want me to say? Someone didn't do his work. That's what happened."

Dave looked through the window and shook his head.

"You didn't waste your time." Schuester said. "You had a chance to stretch your imagination, try out new designs. And practice. These kind of things are never for nothing. Stop whining, damn it, and better yourself, you'll get to have your five minutes eventually."

Dave slowly turned his head back to him and gritted his teeth, realizing he didn't have more to gain here. He let the tense muscles relax enough to give his boss a polite smile. "Thank you, sir."

Schuester sighed. However annoying the young employees were, he well remembered his own start, and the accompanying, frustrating impression of never being good enough, or have one's own work noticed. "You're still on the team working on Hummel's Steel, right?"

Dave felt the tension stilling him again. He nodded briefly.

"Make sure you do well this time."

"I will, sir."

Dave walked out of the room, his boss' words gnawing his mind with an unsetting feeling, and went straight to his own office.

"Good morning, Mr Karofsky!" Rachel chirped from her desk and followed him inside.

Dave sighed. He really could do without her voice right now.

"You have a meeting with Mr Hudson and Mr Evans scheduled on 11 am to pick models for the face cream ad. The presentation of the lipstick ad got canceled, I'm sorry I didn't catch you yesterday. You already left when I found out and..."

"I got it." Dave growled out. He sat behind his desk and pulled out is notebook.

"There's also a party at Johny's this evening." She continued cheerfully, not fazed in the slightest by his cold attitude. "Mrs Slyve's birthday."

Dave looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Who?"

Rachel's brows furrowed disapprovingly. "Mrs Slyve. She's a switch board operator."

"Tell me if there's some pass-the-hat-round thing for gifts or flowers or whatever", He said going through his notes. The ad was already planned out, so all his ideas were basically useless at this point. Unless Hummels won't be satisfy with their offer and ask for something else. But then again, Schuester wouldn't allow him to just step in without previous consultations, so all he could do was to take care of their potential clients the best he could. Which meant interacting with Kurt. Hummel. The young Hummel.

Dave rubbed his face and leaned back on the seat. He met Rachel's eyes. Why was she still there was a mystery.

"All employees from our flour will be here." She smiled.

"Good."

"Will you come?"

"I... don't think so." He shifted on his seat. "Hummels are coming tomorrow right? This is big. I don't have time."

He could swear Rachel looked a tad disappointed before she went out, but he couldn't quite place a reason on it, so he just shrugged it off.

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><p>He didn't get to work in peace for long.<p>

Just minutes after Rachel's departure, Hudson walked into his office without even bothering to knock, annoying his secretary thoroughly by ignoring her words about _Mr Karofsky being busy_. He headed straight to a wine table to pour himself whiskey.

"Good morning to you, too." Dave looked up from his papers.

"Maaan. Have you seen the new girl? Evan's secretary?"

Dave smirked. "Nope, I didn't even know we got some new flesh. But judging by the look on your face, I bet she's quite an eye-candy."

Hudson grinned. "She's a lovely creature, indeed. Looks very qualified, if know what I mean."

"I do, unfortunately."

Hudson nodded towards the closed doors, and took a gulp of his drink. "Rachel has her eyes set on you, you know that right?"

"I'm not doing anything about it."

"Why all the unwilling guys always get the finest girls?" Hudson asked the half full of golden liquid bottle before pouring the alcohol to another glass. He came up to Dave and passed it to him.

Dave rolled his eyes, accepting the alcohol. "Are you jealous? I'd gladly switch her up for someone who can talk slower than a bullet train."

Hudson settled himself comfortably on the couch.

"Let's say I don't approve of wasting potential." He smiled.

Dave sighed. "The only potential I see, is about making my work more complicated."

"What are you so afraid of, man?"

* * *

><p>"Kurt?"<p>

The man didn't respond. He stared into his cup of coffee, absently brushing a long finger over the spoon rested on the saucer.

"Kurt?" Mercedes tried again. He startled a little, and looked at her as if she just appeared in front of him. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." He smiled in the staged way she knew well.

"What is this?"

He stretched on the seat, the long limbs holding out into the air and falling back down.

"I'm getting lonely."

"You're being careful, yes?"

Kurt scoffed. "I'm not doing anything wrong."

"That won't save you."

"Mercedes."

"Kurt." She jabbed the piece of cake weakly, ignoring his stare. He didn't like being lectured, she knew it well.

"Just be careful, that's all I want."


End file.
